


Then and Now

by SamanthaSeraphimandI



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Drinking Games, F/M, Gen, Male Friendship, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-02 02:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17879261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaSeraphimandI/pseuds/SamanthaSeraphimandI
Summary: Seventy years before he was dug out of the ice, Steve Rodgers laughed at his drunk friends, Bucky and Peggy.Now, Bucky-trying to get away from his past as the Winter Soldier-jokingly challenges Steve to a drinking contest. Unbeknownst to Steve, Bucky has a bet with the vivacious Natasha Romanov that it'll take eighty shots of bourbon.Once Thor joins in-with his ancient Asgardian ale-it takes about sixty.No OCs. Only PeggyxSteve





	Then and Now

Laughter, music and light spilled out of a small, rather dilapidated bar. The modestly sized building was bursting at the seams with people that cold, winter night in December of 1942. Capt. Steven Rodgers, Sgt. James Barnes, and Agent Carter were cavorting with their fellow Howling Commandos after a successful raid the previous day.

I say “previous day” because the slightly sidewise clock over the piano now read 1:34 am. No one seemed to mind or notice.

Except for the single, still sober member of the party-aside from the bartender and owner of the establishment. A tall, blond and blue eyed man sat in a slightly less crowded part of the ramshackle room, as though trying to squeezed his broad shoulders into a dusty corner. A pretty brunette sat about a foot away from him on the wooden bench, glaring at anyone who was stupid enough to try and sit between them. On Steve’s other side was a handsome, dark haired man. He grinned happily at their chaotic surroundings, his stubbled chin resting on his best friend’s shoulder.

This only served to make Steve feel even more uncomfortable then before Peggy had gotten “angry drunk” and had been trying to kiss him passionately before the whole room. Thankfully, as she consumed more alcohol, she grew more and more standoffish.

…Steve had recently heard her threaten to break the wrists of any man who tried to play footsies with her. As all of Steve’s guy friends knew, Peggy was perfectly capable of going through with that particular threat. As such, all of the Howling Commandos were keeping well away from the irate special agent.

Except for Steve and Bucky.

The little group stuck to the corner of the bar, sipping at their crappy vodka and swaying to the music. Steve and Peggy had waltzed around the room before Peggy had gotten woozy and had insisted on sitting down. Bucky had mimed waltzing with Steve but the blond soldier had politely turned him down.

If possible, Bucky was acting even sillier now.

He had finally managed to loop his dog tag around Steve’s neck. While he was still wearing it.

Steve squirmed uncomfortably, feeling like an awkward middle schooler with Bucky’s dopey face up in his.

“Um…Buck? I’ve…I’m…could you-you’re kind of getting in my personal space,”

That was putting it mildly. Bucky’s breath reeked of alcohol and practically knocked Steve over.

“ _Hick!_ Steves!” Trilled Bucky, grinning and slightly cross-eyed. “Steves; we brothers! _Hick!_ We even have- _hick!_ -same blood type!”

“…erm…that’s great, Bucky; and I love you, too but really, I would like you to-“

Before the blond super soldier could finish his request, an angry, feminine voice cut him off. “BACK OFF, HOODLUM! Take one more step, and I’ll- _hick!_ -break your shins; you lousy excuse for a soldier! _Hick!_ ”

Steve sighed, and started trying to free himself from his loopy best friend. So that he could pull out his troops before sustaining any casualties from the “evening” that had gone for far too long.

… …

Steve smiled sadly as he folded the black and white photograph back up. He brushed his armored, gloved hand at the tears creeping into the corners of his eyes. It had all been so long ago, and yet-

Bucky, grinning like a maniac, close-cropped hair roguishly tousled and uniform immaculate.

Peggy, quietly stunning with finely formed lips, pale skin and intelligent, bright eyes.

-all there. Steve could _see_ that crowded bar if he just closed his eyes. He smelled the smoke from cigars, the feel of Peggy’s shoulder as she pressed up against him…Bucky’s alcohol-laden breath as he looped the chain of his dog tag around Steve’s neck.

“Hey,”

Steve could not help it. He jumped about a foot and hit his head on the low, polished metal ceiling. “Oof! What-who-?” He turned to face the source of the voice that had startled him out of his revere.

It was Bucky. Shaggy-haired, bristling Bucky with the gold and silver arm. Which was hidden for the most part by the long pullover hoodie that the dark-haired super soldier was now wearing. He looked quizzically at Steve now, no doubt wondering why his friend had snuck off to a little-used part of the Avengers facility to mope.

“Oh. Hey, there Buck. I, uh…I was just looking at this old photograph of us. The three of us,”

He held it out to his friend. Bucky accepted it after a few seconds.

Slowly, his troubled eyes brightened.

“The bar in east Germany?”

Steve nodded, naming the exact town.

Bucky grinned outright. “Yeah! We had such a great time! It was after we took the 123rd H.Y.D.R.A. base and there were no casualties-on our side, at least.” He pronounced happily, a-well, _wolfish_ -look in his eyes. “Then you pulled us out _early_ -“

“It was _not_ early! It was almost _two in the morning_!”

“No, it was super early; like, Steve, most people weren’t even _awake_ yet-“

“…it was the middle of the night! We got to the bar at about six the _evening before_ ,”

“…well, yeah but ‘work hard, play hard’; Steve! Sheesh.”

Steve glared at him, his arms crossed.

Bucky glared back. A formidable sight.

The silent-stare contest lasted for about two minutes, then Steve started to smile. Bucky grinned, his easy-going demeanor returned. “Hey, it’s not fun to squabble about stuff that happened; what? Almost a century ago?”

“Yeah,” Steve smiled. “it’s more fun to do stupid stuff _now_ ,”

Bucky gasped, clutching at his front in mock astonishment. “Steve! You. Are. Suggesting. _Irresponsible_. Behavior?!”

Steve smirked. “Not exactly. I see the bottle in your other hand, Buck and I’m wondering what stupid thing we’re going to do this time,”

“Welllll, now that you mention it…Natasha and I had an idea-“

“Oh, so it’s ‘Natasha’ now, is it? You’ve known her for, what? Half an hour?”

“Was not! I’ve known her for _forty-five minutes_! Because _you’ve_ been moping in a corner! So there.”

Steve looked unimpressed. “Still. You should not be on a first name-basis with her.”

“Pfft, Steve; you know that I’ve kissed girls after I’ve known them for a much shorter period of time,” said Bucky, grinning in a highly irritating fashion.

“Which was _extremely_ unadvisable, given that one of their brothers was sitting across the cafeteria-in plain sight,” Groused Steve, remembering the fist fight that had ensued shortly afterwards.

“Anyway,” continued his friend “we thought that, since you can’t get drunk because of the serum, we could see how many bottles it’d take you to have any signs of intoxication whatsoever.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “….so, you’re saying that your latest hair-brained, hilarious, unadvisable scheme is for me to waste a whole lot of alcohol,”

“No, no! For _us_ to potentially waste a whole lot of alcohol!” said Bucky, grinning happily.

Then he looked crestfallen; an expression that came across his handsome visage with hilarious speed. “Because now _I_ can’t get drunk, either. Which sucks,”

Steve sighed. “So, you want to see if there’s any possibility whatsoever for either of us to get drunk. Great.”

“But you’ll do it; right, Steve?” Bucky asked, his big blue eyes pleading.

Steve sighed again. After a brief struggle, he shrugged. “Fine, fine! Lord have mercy, Buck the things that you think up…”

“Great! I’ll get the first few shot glasses ready! Join us once you’re done moping, ‘kay, Steve?” Bucky called over his shoulder as he raced back towards the more populated portion of the base.

The blond soldier shook his head at the retreating back of his best friend. On the inside, though Steve was smiling.

This was going to be just like old times…

… …

Two Hours Later

“Chug! Chug! Chug!”

The chant seemed to echo dully in Steve’s ears as he downed the forty-sixth mug of bourbon. He barely tasted it now; he had drunk so much of the sharp liquid that he could not feel his tongue in his mouth. Finished, Steve slammed the glass mug down on the low table in front of him, Asgardian style. “More!” he grinned, matching Bucky.

Bucky and Natasha complied, handing him the forty-seventh mug. This done, they cheerfully continued chanting.

“CHUG! CHUG! CHUG! CHUG!”

The noise was redoubled as Tony and Thor joined in, both quite loopy from drinking. The billionaire inventor was bobbing his head to imaginary music and the Asgardian was grinning unusually widely.

“We just _hick!-_ were talking about- _hick!_ -how we wish we could test your…your hammer theory, Steve. _Hick!_ ” Tony said helpfully, as soon as there was a pause in the chanting. As soon as Bucky, Thor, and Natasha stopped swigging their respective beverages, it continued, unabated.

“But,” Tony continued as soon as they paused again, this time to refill their drinks and Steve’s “but- _hick!_ -Thor’s crazy sister, that Hella b!#&%, blew up- _hick!_ -his hammer. How do ya say that again, Thor?”

“Mjöllnir.”

“Oh. Okay,” Tony burped happily, then-apparently having forgotten what insight he had been about to bestow upon them-continued drinking.

In a different part of the Avengers assembly and mess hall where the victory celebrations were taking place, Wanda, Okoye, and Helen Cho were having an alcohol-free competition involving the consumption of a type of Wakandan nut. The goal was to eat-after fully cracking open and chewing-as many of the hard, bitter nuts as possible. They were notoriously difficult to stomach, even for Wakadans. Thus far, the three women had managed not to hurl.

Helen was on seven, Wanda on thirteen, and Okeye on seventeen.

Wanda was fixated on winning. The two fierce warrior women had formed a bond after their conflict with Thanos and his legions and were now engaged in a friendly competition.

It was about as bad, if not worse, then ingesting liter after liter of bourbon.

Wanda gasped, as though having recently surfaced from a pool and Okeye fanned herself, her large brown eyes wide. Helen choked and clutched at the arm of her chair for support, her pale face slightly green.

“These…things…taste…AWFUL,” the Korean woman gasped, trying not to throw up between words.

Wanda’s fair brows creased in concentration.

Okoye managed to grate out: “They…are called…the fruits…of…revenge…for a reason,” the beautiful African woman stated, trying not to spit them out.

While the not-puking contest was still at full tilt, Rhodey, Peter Parker, and T’Challa were enjoying some American soft drinks. Strictly speaking, Rhodey had put a shot or two of wine into his cream soda, but Peter was not supposed to know that.

“So, you _really_ picked up an entire, full-sized, authentic TANK and dropped at the President’s palace?”

“Yup!” Rhodey burped happily. “I was all like, ‘Hey, you lookin’ for this?’”

“AWESOME!” Grinned Peter, his young, naïve face split nearly in half.

T’Challa smiled and toasted their efforts. “What I do not understand, Mr. Parker, is how you came across your unique abilities. How long ago was that?” The young King asked, sipping his Coke.

Peter blushed a little, then tried to tell a coherent narrative. “Well, your Majesty-“

“No need for that. First, I do not need that title. Right now, I am a warrior, among warriors. Second, you are an honored friend of Wakanda, Peter Parker. Speak as you would to a friend.” T’Challa said, waving off Peter’s formality.

“Oh. Okay,” said Peter, still sounding rather unsure. In moments, however, he had dropped his ‘Your Majesty’s and ‘Sirs’ and just called the sovereign ruler of Wakanda by his given name.

 

Elsewhere, Sam Wilson, Maria Hill, Nick Fury, and Cap. Marvel were enjoying their adult beverages. Fury squinted at the contents of his glass, his one good eye slightly bleary from alcohol and lack of sleep. “Wilson, what did you pour me, exactly?”

“Kentucky bourbon, sir. The very finest.”

Fury huffed. “Feels like its trying to bite my blame face off. Besides, I asked for wine. Stark!” He bellowed over the cacophony of laughter, tables breaking, and music blaring. Tony apparently did not hear the former director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and continued talking animatedly to Thor.

Fury glared balefully at his back for a few seconds, then turned back to Sam. “Fine. I’ll finish this and THEN pour myself some wine. Maria, care to join me?” He asked, turning to the pretty, though aloof, brunette.

“Oh, no thank you, sir. If I may speak freely-“

“Please do,”

“-one of us has to be able to drive legally.”

Fury burped and conceded the point. He turned to the alien warrior woman instead. “Cap. Marvel, care for a glass?”

“Thank you, yes.”

 

In the end, it took sixty mugs of bourbon, all told, to make Steve what everyone would consider soaking, sopping drunk. By that point, Tony was so incoherent that he tried to stumble out the door, calling for Pepper Potts. Unfortunately, while he did make it to the end of the mess hall, he did not make it out the door. At least, not on the first try. The first try, his head collided with the wall with a satisfying *thunk* noise. After he had recovered enough to get to his feet again, he nosed his way along the wall, in completely the wrong direction. As such, he went out a small side door instead and was instantly lost, due to his inebriated state.

Thankfully, Pepper took pity on him and helped him down the side hall to his room. Which she auto-locked on him, with a timer that would unlock the door at about seven in the morning. By that point, Thor had challenged Marvel to an arm-wrestling contest and, as a direct result, more furniture was broken. After they finally declared a winner, they slapped each other good-naturedly on the back and sat back down again. Thor promptly conked out right there on the couch. Not feeling comfortable in a room full of strange men, Cap. Marvel bid them good night and slipped up to her room. (Vision and Wanda had “disappeared” earlier that night.)

After conversing at length with Vision over Dr. Peppers, Bruce Banner had taken to covertly following Natasha around. He was eventually nabbed by Tony and they started catching up and sciencing. He, too had already bid everyone goodnight and gone off to his own room. Natasha eyed the door he had used, and then, after waiting a good ten minutes, slid out after him.

Fury and Rhodey (very sensibly, for men so drunk) sent Peter off to bed fairly early (that is, around twelve) and Fury stumbled down the hallway to the car parked outside.

Maria joined him after she was finished helping Pepper get Tony up the stairs and into his bedroom. (It is worth noting that both women left promptly).

Rhodey left the mess hall with T’Challa and Okoye, then stumbled off to his room after chatting some more with T’Challa on the way. Helen Cho escaped early on in the evening, at approximately ten forty.

This left Thor (passed out on the couch), Steve, Bucky, and Sam. Steve was sitting with one bestie on his left, the other on his right with Thor snoozing on the couch opposite.

Past and present…pretty poetic, in a way. For three drunk-as-a-skunk men.   …well, four if you count Thor.

(And, in doing so, cause this sentence to rhyme).

Just as Steve was thinking about the poeticness of the situation, Thor let out a roaring snore and sort of broke the moment before Steve could say anything suitably meaningful.

Then Steve realized that Sam had fallen asleep on his shoulder, breathing softly through his mouth.

…Steve would have rather gotten run over by a tank instead of say so, but Sam was actually pretty cute when sleeping like that. Like an adorable dog.

“Buck?”

“Hmmm?”

“Do you…you remember when we last saw…you know, when you last saw me, before…before H.Y.D.R.A….?”

“I….I honestly don’t know, Steve. My short-term memory was so…torn up by that…that mind stuff they did to me that I really don’t know.”

“Oh.” Steve said intelligently, not really knowing what to say. It felt very odd, not knowing what to say to his oldest and dearest friend. Steve smiled to himself. Back in that bar, Bucky had referred to himself as Steve’s brother. It fit rather nicely. Better then that dog tag had.

Steve was about to remind Bucky of that particular detail when Bucky asked a question of his own.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“What…what happened, before I…before they got me?”

There was a silence. Then Steve said quietly: “We were flying down a jury-rigged zipline onto this train, up in the mountains. It was bitterly cold. You were saying that that plan of entry was my way of getting revenge on you for that time on the rollercoaster at Coney Island-“

“When you puked all over yourself.” Finished Bucky, a small smile on his face.

“yeah. _That_ ,” said Steve, his tall frame wracked with a small, involuntary shudder.

Bucky snorted into his friend’s shoulder.

Steve continued with his narrative. “Well, that part went fine. Then we encountered hostiles. We were doing well, but these crazy b@$#@^&!s had these super powerful energy weapons. They blew open the side of the train car we were in, Buck. And the next thing I knew was that you were on the outside and I was on the inside.”

There was another uncomfortable pause before Steve continued. “Well…there wasn’t much for it but for me to climb out and try and reach you. I almost had you…but the handle from the inside of the car that you were holding onto broke off before I could. Then you…” Steve trailed off, his voice catching.

A few moments passed. Then the two still-conscious friends let out a simultaneous-and nearly identical-pair of sighs. Bucky’s head drooped, his face now against Steve’s chest.

“I…I sleep so badly now, Steve. This place…it was so much better in Wakanda. So rustic…I knew exactly where I was every time I woke up. And the sunsets…they were so beautiful.” The Winter Soldier said wistfully, almost in the same way that Steve talked about Peggy sometimes. (That last part-about the sunsets-was said in a voice that could just as easily have been talking about the beauty of a specific, though unnamed, woman.)

Steve resisted the urge to pat his friend on the head. He looked for something non-cliché and helpful, but settled on simply reaffirming his friendship with the dark-haired man.

“Ditto.” Mumbled Bucky in a sleepy voice.

About ten minutes passed with not a word uttered. Companionable silence reigned supreme…except for Thor’s walrus-like snores.

Steve finally thought of something and was drawing breath to say it when he heard a gentle snore from Bucky.   …the Winter Soldier was sleeping peacefully on Captain America’s chest.

Go figure.  

With a soft sigh, Steve leaned back-very slowly, so as to avoid waking the two sleeping beauties-I mean, _soldiers_ -resting their heads on him.

When he awoke at about ten the next morning, Steve was well-rested, though he had a horrible crick in his neck.

… …

Before the first soldier awoke, Pepper had arrived on the scene to get a sense of what pieces of furniture needed to be replaced, and what to tell the cleaning crew about the floor.

…and one of the couches. Unfortunately. (Although Thor, Sam, Steve, and Bucky had the sense not to sit on it. Thankfully.)

Therefore, Pepper was the first to see the four sleeping beauties on the couches.

She looked startled for a second, then smiled and pulled out her phone.


End file.
